


You Say 'Leather' Like It's a Bad Thing

by jojothecr



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: At Convention, F/M, M/M, Open Marriage, Written in 2010
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-23
Updated: 2011-06-23
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojothecr/pseuds/jojothecr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vancouver Con 2010.<br/><em>He loves her. He's madly in love with her, but, unfortunately, she's not the only one...</em></p><p>(The leather in the title indicates a leather jacket, before you start thinking who knows what...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Say 'Leather' Like It's a Bad Thing

Making his way through the chatting and squeeing, seemingly endless, crowd of fans, Jared finally stumbles into the lobby. He doesn’t understand how Jensen’s managed to run away, and basically disappear so fast, when they were on the stage, _together_ , less than two minutes ago.

It’s only when the space around him evens out, girls, boys and whole families wandering to the opposite end of the building, heading for another round of the convention, which Jared will also have to join soon, that he spots Jensen.

Surrounded by a bunch of girls on one side and a series of large windows at the other, completely cornered, Jensen’s crouching on the floor, giving an autograph to a little pony-tail girl, who can’t be much older than four, maybe five. Jared’s sure that she’s definitely not old enough for the stuff that Supernatural offers in such liberal potions. When Jensen hands the signed photo to her and smiles, she grins right back, and then runs away, ending in a safe embrace of her mother, older sister, aunt, _whoever_ , who’s redder in the face than the little girl’s dress. Jensen looks at her and smiles, tilting his head in a silent greeting, knowing. She’s not the first shy fan they’ve met.

Drawn to the story unreeling in front of him, Jared nearly completely forgets the small, warm hand clasped in his. He would, if it weren’t for Genevieve’s other hand tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. He looks back and then down, meeting a faked smile and wrinkled lines on her forehead. And a look of barely hidden disappointment and consciousness. She knows where he was looking. And just as well why.

“I have to go, Jay,” she says, straining her voice above the not-fading out peal around. “I still need to pack.”

"I’ll walk you out.”

She shakes her head. “It’s okay, stay here. You don’t have much time anyway.”

“I won’t be long. C’mon.” He takes a step forward, heading for the exit, but she pulls him back.

“Really. Stay. I think I can find the door just fine.”

“Something’s wrong, Gen?” Jared can’t get rid of the feeling she’s running away. From him. Or from Jensen. From them.

“No, everything’s fine. I’m just tired. A lot of people.” She smiles, for real, waving her hand around to indicate the hundreds and hundreds of anonymous faces. “I think I’ll make it to the door faster without you. You’re the star of today, they wouldn’t let you.”

“I’m hardly a star of _anything_.”

She reaches up and he leans down, allowing her to stroke his cheek. “You are _my_ star of everything.”

“You’re way too good for me, you know that?”

“Yeah,” she grins. “I know.”

Jared smiles, then leans in, kissing her on the lips gently. Briefly. Just enough to let it mean something, but trying not to draw too much attention to them. Enjoying it, yet desperately wanting something else. More. _Someone_ else.

“I don’t suppose you’ll make it home before I’m gone?”

“I’ll try.”

“Okay.”

“Call me when you get home, okay? Wanna know you made it back in one piece.”

“You too.”

Genevieve looks away, making Jared follow her lead. Finding Jensen, still where he was a moment ago, talking to the same lady who was too scared to ask for an autograph before. She’s smiling now, laughing at whatever Jensen’s saying. She doesn’t look spooked or nervous anymore, just relaxed, like they were old friends. Jensen has that effect on people. “Say hi for me, alright?”

She could do it herself. She _could_. But she _won’t_. And especially not today.

Jared nods a little tensely. “Alright.” _Maybe_.

“So, see you later. Maybe.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Jared doesn’t like that he has to let her go. That she needs to take a taxi when he could just as easily drive her to the airport and say _Goodbye_ and _I love you_ properly. But he can’t just walk away. And the fans are just one of the few reasons why not.

He follows Genevieve down the corridor with his eyes, already feeling terrible for what he’s thinking and planning in his head. For what he’s been planning and wanting for the last few days while she’s been clinging to his side. He loves her. He’s madly _in love_ with her, but, unfortunately, she’s not the only one.

Jared glances back to the other corner of the lobby, empty now, save a few belated guests and overly-important hosts, spotting his co-star in companionable, and obviously a very interesting conversation with their bodyguard.

Jensen’s sipping on his coffee, at least fourth already today, narrowing his eyes every time he swallows, like it’s the best coffee he’s had in months. Like he’s never tasted anything better.

Making a quick decision, based on pure, persistent longing and loneliness he can’t shake off even when he’s surrounded by hundreds of people, Jared closes the distance between them in a few fast strides, and clasps Jensen’s elbow.

Jensen, of course, jerks; temporarily startled, before he looks to the side. Then he just rolls his eyes in the typical ‘Just Jared’ way of his.

It’s charming how annoying Jensen can be sometimes. And how little Jared really minds.

“Mind if I steal him for a moment?” Jared asks, interrupting Cliff in the middle of a sentence, like his momma didn’t teach him any better.

He doesn’t wait for Cliff’s reply, the guy seems to be taken by surprise a little and it might take a while before he’d get it, and just tugs Jensen away. He can see Cliff nod, looking at the spot where Jensen was standing just fifteen seconds ago, sees Jensen waving apologetically at their live shield as he’s being dragged away.

“Man, Jared… slow down, would you?” Jensen pants as Jared leads them, _fast_ , through the lobby, heading somewhere where the omnipresent chatter barely ascends.

When Jared stops, finally, and pushes Jensen towards a small window embrasure, not exactly gently, Jensen looks partly worried, and partly downright pissed off.

“Jesus Christ, what happened?”

“I’m ending it,” Jared says simply, stepping in front of Jensen, close enough so anyone who passes by, the more hurried the better, will see only the taller one of them.

“Wha-- Ending what? What you’re talking about?”

“The ‘little’ _non-aggression_ pact we sealed?”

Jensen pauses, confusedly. Then he nods with recognition, “Oh.”

“That’s the one,” Jared confirms.

“What’s wrong with it?” Jensen wonders; sounding so naive and innocent Jared’s sure he’s not faking it in the least.

“Besides everything?” He returns, shoving his hands down his pockets to keep himself from reaching forward. Surprisingly enough, Jensen doesn’t take that for an answer.“The less I’m supposed to touch you, to kiss you, the more I wanna do it. The more I want you.”

“Forbidden fruits, huh?” Jensen suggests, arching his eyebrow teasingly.

“It’s not funny.”

“No, you’re right. It’s downright tragic.”

“Jensen.”

“You’ve got Gen, at least, I’ve got--” Jensen trails off eloquently, his cheeks tainting light pink.

It’s adorable how often he really does blush. And how he’ll keep stubbornly denying it until the end of his days.

Jared leans closer with a naughty grin. His lips brush Jensen’s ear as he speaks. “Only your right hand?”

Jensen shivers and his breath sort of hitches. Then he pulls back, squinting at Jared, because he’s still too close. “Jerk,” he hisses.

“D’ja think of me last night?”

"Too tired.”

“This morning? In the shower?”

“Too busy.”

Jared purses his lips, wounded. “Do you _ever_ think of me?”

Jensen vehemently shakes his head.

"So anyway,” Jared says as he draws away, knowing so well that Jensen’s lying. He might be good at lying, but not that good. “I’m ending it. It’s not working. It’s naive. And it’s stupid. I tried, but it’s just _not_ working.”

“Maybe you’re not trying hard enough,” Jensen comments dryly before he takes another sip of his coffee. By the disgusted face he makes one would think his cup of delicious hot coffee has just become a cup of very poor _ice_ coffee.

“No?” Jared questions, astonished. He looks quickly to the left, then to the right and then, seeing that there’s no one within earshot, steps closer. His thighs touch Jensen’s, and he can feel the tremble rocketing through Jensen’s body when he breathes into his ear. “I left you alone all through the breakfast. Didn’t touch you, not like I really wanted to, not once. I didn’t grab the tails of your jacket, didn’t pull you closer, and I _didn’t_ shove my tongue down your throat. I _didn’t_ cup your ass, so pretty in these jeans, Jensen, and I didn’t do anything inappropriate.” Getting bolder, or just too horny to control himself and realize where they still are, Jared licks at the tip of Jensen’s earlobe, drawing a helpless gasp out of him.

“Jared.” Jensen peeps out, breathlessly. Out of the corner of his eye, Jared can see Jensen’s hand clenching to fist at his side. _Good_.

“Though I wanted to,” he continues; his voice no louder than a whisper. “You’ve no idea how much. You think they’d mind? All the fans there, who were watching us. Watching _you_. Staring. Drooling. _Wanting_. Do you think they’d mind if I pushed you against the closest vertical surface and kissed you until you’d forgot your own name?” He chuckles darkly, noticing how Jensen’s breath quickens, how his chest falls and rises, faster and faster. “I bet they’d make me take you. Right there, on the stage. In front of everybody.”

Jensen closes his eyes, breathing in through his mouth, and his hand reaches blindly for Jared. His fingers clasp Jared’s bicep, almost too tight, like he needs to anchor himself before he falls. He opens his eyes again a moment later; wider, darker, and swallows audibly. He seems to be, finally, right where Jared is. Where Jared’s been from the second he looked at Jensen this morning. It’s a look that suits Jensen like no other.

“Wha-what‘s got into you?”

“You.”

“Huh?”

“You,” Jared repeats. “You and this... this jacket of yours.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Jensen asks, looking himself down critically.

“Nothing. Nothing, that’s the problem. It’s perfect. Sexy... Makes you look so fucking hot I don’t even know what I wanna do more. Tear it off you. Or keep you in it forever and put you in my pocket.”

Jensen laughs, shaking his head amusedly. Relaxing again.

"Really... You’ve been told from hundreds of fans that you make the whole planet melt, and you think I’ll stay immune to it?”

“You’ve got such a strong will in everything else,” Jensen shrugs with a smile.

“Yeah,” Jared agrees seriously. “But you are my weakness.”

Jensen nods, understanding. The Winchester brothers aren’t the only ones with co-dependency problems.

“Did she pick it?”

Jared would swear that his hand has found its way under Jensen’s leather jacket absolutely by its own will. His fingertips brush Jensen’s T-shirt right above the waistline of his jeans, and Jared can feel the heat of his skin oozing even through the soft cotton. He wants to touch. And, judging by the fire burning in Jensen’s eyes that stare right back at him, Jensen wouldn’t completely mind either.

“Yeah.”

“She’s got a great taste... In _lots_ of things.” _After all, she picked_ you _too_.

Shadows of melancholy, or sorrow, run across Jensen’s face, like heavy, rainy clouds over landscape, and he glances down the corridor worriedly. “We should go back,” he says quietly.

“No. Please... just a moment more.”

“Jay.”

Stepping closer, Jared settles both of his hands on Jensen’s hips and rests his forehead against Jensen’s, looking down at him. “I miss you... so fucking much it’s driving me crazy.”

“Jared.” Jensen sighs fecklessly, gazing back. “Anyone could come... at any moment. Anyone could see... She’s somewhere around, too.”

“She’s gone. And she’s leaving for L.A. in a few hours.”

“What?” Jensen steps back, looking utterly puzzled. “What did you do?”

“What did I--? Nothing.”

“She was supposed to leave on Tuesday,” Jensen reminds pragmatically; just knowing. “What did you do?”

“Nothing. I don’t think--”

“I saw the look, Jay. The way she looked at me this morning... There was more than there usually is.”

 

And that there is usually _a lot_.  
She accepts it. _Them_. She got married to Jared, knowing. And she keeps trying to live in this twisted quadrangle, but no one can really blame her if it’s a little too much for her sometimes. And nobody does. Most of the time, Jensen just steps out of her way, basically hiding. He doesn’t come anywhere near her if he doesn’t have to. He’s become a large elephant in the room that neither of them talks about. That they’ve both learnt to ignore.

Danneel handles them, everything, far better. Maybe it’s because she’s away more often, longer. Maybe because she’s been there from the very beginning of this. She’s witnessed the first lingering looks, first hesitative touches. Their first baby steps forward. She’s been there, all the time. Like a friend, at first. Then, like a girlfriend of a very confused boyfriend. And, finally, like more than an understanding fiancée, and a wife.

Sometimes Jared thinks she’s actually been the one who’s planned this. Who suggested this ‘double-marriage’ where everything is just how it should be. _Normal_. At first glance. A little deeper though, there’s another relationship; hidden behind closed doors and whispers. Secret language and encrypted phone calls. Beneath the layer of the usual is _them_.

 

“I might have said something,” Jared admits finally as he moves aside, lining his shoulder with Jensen’s, and leans against the pillar in between the windows. “Last night. I might have said something I shouldn’t have.”

“ _Something_? Like what?”

“About you.”

“About me? But what – I don’t-”

“I might have said the wrong name.” Jared bites onto his lip, expecting Jensen to snap. Right. Now.

“The fuck?!”

'Gen’, spoken, is so innocently close to ‘Jen’. Only it doesn’t have the ‘s’ to continue with.

“It wasn’t even exactly then, it was... _after_.”

“Like that’s so much better.”

“She put her hand on my stomach,” Jared says, defending himself, but faintly. He knows he’s fucked up; he doesn’t need Jensen to tell him the same. “Only a bit lower. The way _you_ do... It was just a moment.”

“Apparently it was enough.”

“ _You_ make me crazy. You and your stupid ‘there’s-no- _us_ -if-the-girls-are-here’ rule... So yeah, blame _me_!”

“I’m not bla--” Jensen returns, his tone matching Jared’s angry one, before he wills himself to calm down. “I’m not blamin’ you, Jay. It’s just ... _not_ good.”

"Yeah,” Jared snorts bitterly. “Tell me ‘bout it.”

They’re both silent for a while, lost in thoughts, then Jensen pulls from the wall and throws the almost-empty cup into the trash bin. “C’mon. We gotta go.”

“Just a second,” Jared says, reaching for Jensen’s arm and pulling him the other way again. Because he’s just spotted a door of what looks like a janitor closet. Like _an abandoned_ janitor closet. And because he _knows_ that he _will_ get nuts if he doesn’t kiss Jensen this very hour.

Jensen makes some weak attempts at protesting, very unconvincing ones; like the cold and unimpressed, “You gotta be kidding me!” or “Dude, janitor closet?! Are we back in high school or what?”, but Jared’s already grabbing for the knob and opening the ThankGodUnlocked door.

They slightly falter across the threshold, but once the door actually swings closed behind them, Jared’s got, all of a sudden, hands full of Jensen Ackles, who doesn’t seem to protest anymore, and Jared definitely doesn’t mind.

“I’m not doing much better,” Jensen says against Jared’s lips, whispers, like it’s a secret, as his fingers gather handfuls of Jared’s shirt at the sides, drawing him nearer. His lips are warm, dry and soft. Bitter like his favourite taste of coffee, and sweet with what they offer and promise. They barely move at first, just rest against Jared’s; Jensen’s breath hot and heavy on Jared’s mouth.

“Is that right?” Jared returns, his cocky tone poorly masking the undertow of want and need, and genuine, selfish satisfaction that he’s not alone in this mess, even when it usually feels just like that. “But you always look so cold. So composed.”

Jensen pulls back, for a moment, grinning up at Jared. “I am just a terrific actor,” he explains simply, and Jared _knows_ he’s totally right about that.

Jensen’s mouth’s back then, lips slip-sliding over Jared’s as light as liquid, lazy and unhurried like they’ve got all the time in the world. Which they _don’t_ have. Not right now.

Impatient to get his hands on Jensen, the way he’s been craving to for a good few, endless hours, Jared seizes Jensen’s hips and pushes him backward, until Jensen’s back collides with the storage shelf behind him. Something rattles on the higher level, dangerously heavy and close to falling, and Jensen lets out a surprised gasp. Jared freezes, lips pressed to Jensen’s, not moving as he waits for something, anything, to come toppling down and spilling some nasty, sticky stuff on them. On Jensen and his fuckingawesome jacket. He’s fairly sure Jensen would kill him if he ruined it. And if not Jensen, than Danneel definitely. She wouldn’t even blink.

Nothing happens though, and Jared assumes that he’s been patient enough. One of his palms cups Jensen’s cheek, tilting his head just right and deepening the kiss Jensen’s started by slipping his tongue in Jensen’s mouth, seeking Jensen’s, caressing it, teasing, sighing at the silky heat that embraces him. His other hand travels on, far lower, sneaking beneath Jensen’s T-shirt and down, where the dips of his spine softly curve into the swell of his perfect, little ass. Jensen’s moan echoes into Jared’s mouth, resonating through his whole being and sending an almost-pain into the very tips of his toes. His fingers spread, cupping firm flesh, and his hand pushes forward, guiding their groins flush together and eliciting another strained gasp out of the back of Jensen’s throat.

Jensen tightens his grip; Jared can feel Jensen’s fingernails scratching his skin even through the thick layer of his shirt, tugging Jared closer even as he pulls back, away from the kiss, and lets his head thud against the steel edge of the shelf. His cheeks are flushed and his chest is heaving as he gasps for breath.

It’s fascinating, and scary, how every little, innocent kiss always tends to increase to much, much more in seconds. The need to touch and feel, fill and own. And never let go. It’s primal, almost animalistic. It’s more _want you_ and _need you. Here. Now_. than _I love you_ , even though it’s there, still, from the very beginning. Getting stronger, day by day.

“We gotta—gotta go,” Jensen rasps, hissing when Jared’s tongue laps at his bared throat, sliding up to his ear. “Gotta- _ah!_ -go back.”

“Yeah,” Jared hums against Jensen’s skin, knowing that they’ve got hundreds of fans waiting for them, that they’re already late, but still unable to actually detach himself from Jensen. “Yeah.”

“Now.Now.Now,” Jensen says, shifting his palms up to Jared’s chest and pushing him gently away. “Really. Now.”

Jared sighs with frustration as he takes a step back, willing his heartbeat to return to normal and his body cool down. He’s staying close, breathing in Jensen’s warmth and the fragrance of his skin, barely aware of his thumbs drawing circles upon Jensen’s hipbones.

“Will you come over tonight?” He asks, smirking when Jensen’s forehead creases with would-be deep thoughts.

“I don’t know... Should I come over tonight?”

“Yes, you should... It’s been _ages_ , Jens, you definitely should.”

“Actually… just four weeks and three days, but yeah, yeah, I will.” Jensen pauses, glancing over Jared’s shoulder and to the door. “You’re going first?”

“Ah... you go. I-I need a moment.”

Jensen’s laughing as he steps around Jared, heading for the door. His hand lingers on Jared’s shoulder though and he draws back to bite Jared’s ear. “Don’t be too long,” he whispers. “Don’t wanna miss you again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://jojothecr.livejournal.com/276824.html#cutid1)


End file.
